Republic City High
by Grasspaw
Summary: AU: Republic City High was populated with some of the strangest characters you were likely to meet in a lifetime, much less one day of walking down the halls. There's Mark and Bill Tanaka, the soccer jocks, Ashleigh Sato, the rich, hardcore pretty girl, Cora Anderson, the too-tough-for-you foreign exchange student, and Jenny Adams, the child genius. And those are just some!
1. A Quick Look at Republic City High

**I... don't know. I probably fail at writing stories that involve school, 'cuz I've never been to one, but whatever! And this is pretty much extremely poorly written, but it would get out of my head, and then when I wrote it simply refused to sit quietly on my desktop, haunting my dreams: _Possst me... Possst meee..._ So, uh, yeah. I own nothing. I might actually write more to this, because I have some ideas, but...  
****Mark Tanaka: Mako  
Bill Tanaka: Bolin  
Cora Andersen: Korra  
Ashleigh Sato: Asami  
Jenny Adams: Jinora  
Katie Adams: Katara  
Tobias Bentley: Toza  
Irving Gutierrez: Iroh  
Laurence Ganley: Lau Gan-Lan  
Amos Barleti: Amon**

Republic City High was populated with some of the strangest characters you were likely to meet in a lifetime, much less one day of walking down the halls.

For one, there was Mark Tanaka, the amber-eyed, blackhaired, drop-dead-gorgeous grandson of Japanese immigrants. He was tall and pale and slim and amazingly handsome, and always followed by the rumor that he was gay, because how else could he possibly ignore the half-dozen fangirls that followed him around everywhere? Of course there was a whole fanclub, but these six were the most devoted, and surely one day he would choose one lucky girl! But for now, he stalked the hallways with a perpetual (but strikingly handsome) frown on his face, ignored authority in the classroom but always got his homework in on time, and only seemed to come alive on the soccer field, or when he was absently doodling the initials "C.A." on a piece of notebook paper or his hand, a stupid half-smile on his face.

In case you're curious, "C.A." are the initials of one Cora Andersen, an exchange student from Canada whom all the guys were crazy about until they discovered she could beat almost any of them at any sport imaginable. She always had her brunette hair up in three ponytails and never wore sunglasses even in the middle of summer. She said this was because, coming from "way, way up north" there was snow on the ground almost all year, so she was used to the glare; however, it was a popular theory that she did it for the sake of people who wanted to examine her insanely blue eyes.

People like Bill Tanaka, the younger brother of the famous Mark. He, too, was a soccer jock (and a sculptor, strangely enough, but he was forgiven this abnormality because of his perfect green eyes), and he, too, had a healthy following of fangirls. One could always find two or three young women arguing over who was "Team Mark" and who was "Team Bill." Bill, unlike his brother, relished the attention and was out with a different girl (or sometimes more) every weekend, much to the exasperation of his older brother. Bill laughed loud, talked loud, and generally drew attention to himself wherever he went, simply because that was the way he was. The only time he could ever be seen more or less quiet was on the soccerfield, where he would be silent and determined, working in tandem with his brother to get the ball to the goal; they were almost never put in defensive positions, and if one was offense then so was the other. Mark made sure of it, as he was team captain, and he knew that there wasn't a better soccer duo in the city.

Almost the entire school would show up for the matches, partially to watch the game and partially because they knew Ashleigh Sato would be in the front row watching. Ashleigh was, arguably, the prettiest girl in the school. Tall and willowy, with waves of dark hair, green eyes, and impeccable makeup, she would seat herself primly on the bottom-most bleacher, only to jump to her feet, screaming with delight, as someone (usually Mark or Bill) made a goal. Ashleigh, though the daughter of one of the richest men in the city and determinedly gorgeous, was hardcore, and people would occasionally spend more time watching her reaction to the game than the game itself.

Except, of course, young Jenny Adams, but no one knew why she came to the games anyways. The girl was only ten, but with an IQ almost off the charts, she was in ninth grade already. At most soccer games she would sit quietly next to Cora, who was staying with the Adams family for an indefinite amount of time, and read a Jane Austen novel until it was time to go home. However, Cora would, without fail, insist on going to speak to Mark and Bill to congratulate them, and Jenny would trail along behind her quietly and awkwardly, which was her usual approach to life. She didn't have the many friends, as most children her own age found her odd or even scary, and most of the highschoolers found her immature and childish for no reason other than that she was a child. In all honesty she was probably more mature than half of them - being a social outcast left her with no one but teachers and Cora to talk to at school, and Cora was odd and a little terrifying, so she spent more time talking to the adults. Jinny had her brown hair cut in a short bob that almost reached her chin, and she was almost never seen without a book in her hand, pushing her glasses up her nose in surprise whenever someone spoke to her.

And these were only the students! There was the school nurse, Katie Adams (Jenny's grandmother), who was absolutely adored by the entire school; the soccer coach, Tobias Bentley (affectionately nicknamed "Old Toe" by the team), who was old and "gnarly" and tough and let the Tanaka brothers crash at his place most nights, though few people knew this; Mr. Irving Gutiérrez, the history teacher who was most of the girls' teacher crush, but who seemed so wrapped up in his love of the past that he completely missed their dreamy sighs; the cook, Laurence Ganley, who had a strange love of cabbages and put them in every meal possible; and Principal Amos Barleti, who was held in awe by most people in the school and, really, the entire city, for the way he could do pretty much whatever he wanted and still be so mind-numbingly popular. For a principal, at least.

Yes, Republic City High was quite an interesting place, with jocks, artists, child geniuses, and foreign exchange students. All the weirdos seemed to flock to it like birds to a marsh, which resulted in quite an interesting school.


	2. A Slightly Longer Look

**Um, yeah. I own nothing.**

Jenny sighed as she sloshed through a mud puddle - her glasses were so rainstreaked she hadn't noticed it. She hated the rain, and the wind had decided to whip her umbrella right out of her hand. She had held her backpack over her head for a little while, but by now she was completely soaked and had given up on using it as a makeshift umbrella; she had also given up on being on time for school. She was _never_late, so the thought made her feel slightly ill.

A truck drove by, and she threw her hands up to shield her face from the spray. However, to her surprise, the car stopped a few feet away and the driver rolled down the window; through the torrent of rain and dirty glasses she could just make out the face of Bill Tanaka in the driver's seat of the old, beat up Ford, and his brother Mark next to him.

"Jenny!" he hollered over the noise. "You going to school?" She nodded mutely. "Climb on in, we'll take you the rest of the way!"

Jenny knew not to accept rides from strangers, but they were heading to school anyways, and she felt like she was swimming. Besides, they weren't exactly strangers, being friends of Cora's, but she didn't really know Cora that well, either...

She hesitated, but a streak of lightning and a very loud roll of thunder made her jump and scamper forward. Mark climbed out quickly and pushed the seat forward; she clambered over and seated herself in the back, shivering. Mark climbed back in, and Bill was driving before he'd even buckled in.

"You look like a drowned rat," Bill said cheerfully. "I'm pretty sure there's some towels back there somewhere; this's the Old Toe's truck." Jenny looked around at the backseat; she was crammed between piles of jerseys, a huge mesh bag of soccer balls, and moutains of cleats and old magazines.

"Um," she said, looking around. "I don't see..."

"Just wipe yourself off with a jersey," Mark said with a shrug, not looking at her. "Where's Cora?" he asked unconcernedly.

"She slept over at Ashleigh's," Jenny said, cleaning her glasses and drying herself off as best she could. Her wet hair was plastered to her face, her t-shirt and jeans were stuck to her skin, and her tennis shoes squelched every time she moved. Mark nodded, looking out the window.

"Don't you have an umbrella?" Bill asked, glancing back at her.

"Of course," she said, looking at him in surprise. He seemed to expect her to elaborate, but she had no idea what he wanted her to say. Mark coughed quietly, clearing his throat.

"What Bill means is, where is your umbrella?"

"Oh," she said, flushing. "It got blown away on the way over."

"Don't you take the bus?" Bill asked. Jenny flushed.

"I missed it." She paused. "Not to be rude, but shouldn't Mark be driving, since he's older?"

"I need hours," Bill explained. "I technically shouldn't be driving with you in the car, but..." He smiled. "I couldn't really let you walk the rest of the way, could I? Mark was all for leaving you out there."

"I was not!" his brother protested. "I just said we were going to be late if you pulled over; I couldn't even see her, so I didn't know why you were pulling over anyways."

"Excuses, excuses..."

They continued bickering as they drew closer to the school, and Jenny sat quietly in the backseat. Mark glanced at her after a minute, wondering. Jenny was so quiet, and he couldn't understand why. If he was four grades ahead he'd be pretty proud of himself, probably mouthing off to everyone; his only current claim to fame was soccer. But Jenny seemed... quaint, he guessed, always tagging along behind Cora with a book in her hand. She had pulled one out of her backpack now, he noticed, and was reading it as though her life depended on it.

"What's that?" Bill asked curiously, looking back at her. She flushed.

"It, um, it's a love story."

"Aren't you a little young for those?" Mark asked, raising his eyebrows. Jenny shook her head obstinately.

"It's not graphic at all, they don't do anything more than kissing, and it's so sweet, because it's in the middle of a war and she's a princess and he's the enemy general's son, but they _love_each other..." She sighed quietly, hugging the book to her chest. Mark shook his head in disbelief and turned back towards the front.

"We're here," Bill announced, doing a sloppy job of parking in his haste to make it inside on time. "Come on, Jenny, let's go!"

"Go where?" the ten-year-old asked, blinking, and he laughed.

"Inside! Where else? You're gonna be late."

"Oh... right!" she said, giggling in an embarrassed sort of way as she dragged her backpack out of the car and, slipping it on, ran towards the school.

"She's funny," Bill commented. "Wonder why she never talks?"

Mark shrugged, hefting the bag of soccer balls over his shoulder. "No idea. Grab those jerseys, we gotta get this stuff inside before it gets completely soaked."

"Yep," Bill grunted, dropping the numerous cleats on top of the jerseys and leaning against the door to close it. "Nice of the Old Toe to donate old cleats and stuff..."

"Uh huh," Mark said vaguely, jogging towards the building. "Nice of us to carry it for him."

"Aw, we owe him a favor."

"Yeah, yeah..." Mark pushed the door open with his shoulder, shaking the water out of his eyes. "I hate rain," he muttered.

"Mark!"

He turned to see Cora Andersen walking quickly towards him, Ashleigh Sato by her side. "Hey, you two... Are you wearing _makeup?_" he asked disbelievingly as Cora drew closer. She flushed. It was only a little, but because she almost never wore makeup it was extremely obvious.

"Um, yeah," she said defiantly. "Ashleigh did it for me. Hey, Jenny said you gave her a ride?"

"Oh, uh... yeah," he said, shifting the bag of soccerballs to a more comfortable position. "It was Bill, really, I didn't even see her..."

"Oh. Well, thank him for me, would you? I have to... go..." She gestured vaguely over her shoulder in the general direction of her classroom. "See ya."

"See ya," he nodded. Cora smiled, her lips pink and glossy from whatever makeup Ashleigh had used, then turned and almost-jogged away. Ashleigh smiled at him, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable.

"Uh, I gotta drop this off at the Old Toe's office," he muttered. He didn't really get along with Ashleigh too well, because she was too pretty and too rich and too friendly, and Cora was really the only girl he could be friends with. And that was simply because she could almost beat him at arm wrestling - almost.

"Sure," Ashleigh said, smiling more widely. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, examining his tennis shoes. "I mean, I'll be there. Gonna beat those Wolfbats to a pulp..." He smiled despite himself, imagining that stupid Tony Watson's perfect hair all mussed up after a match. It was a good feeling, beating the Wolfbats, though always hard-won.

"All right!" Ashleigh said, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek before turning and disappearing down the hallway. He stood there, gaping after her, until it registered in his mind that the bell had just rung, the halls were empty, and he was, again, late for class.

Wonderful.


	3. Another Look

**Right. So. I am working on "A Much Longer Look" which will be several thousand words (go me!) and will basically be several chapters crammed into a oneshot. Sorry I haven't posted in a while; my flight was killer and I'm still seriously jetlagged. But I'm back Stateside :~) Anyhow, my current excuse is that I'm staying with relatives I haven't seen since I was eleven and we've been doing some hardcore catching up. That, and I haven't been writing lately... Ignore that. So, anyhow, you won't see much from for a while. I own nothing.**

Jenny trailed behind Cora as the girl shoved through the crowds to reach the Tanaka brothers, who were loading their things into the back of Coach Bentley's truck. Bill turned at the sound of their footsteps, the glum expression on his face disappearing when he saw them.

"Hey, Cora!"

"Hi, Bill," the girl said with a grin. "You did good." The sixteen-year-old boy's shoulders slumped.

"Yeah, right. We still lost."

"Well, the Wolfbats did good, too," Cora said, frowning in a displeased sort of way. Jenny though that she must hate to admit that; Cora wasn't one to say anything nice about the apposing team.

Mark hadn't turned around; he simply continued packing the soccer balls into the truck. Cora shot him an anxious look that he couldn't see. While the Canadian student continued cheering up Bill, Jenny wandered around to stand next to Mark.

"You did do a good job, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "So don't beat yourself up about it. I know you don't like Tony Watson to win, but it's only fair if everyone loses sometimes. Otherwise your head swells up too big."

He gave her an odd little half-smile. "Does it now."

"Yes," she said with a decisive nod. "That's what Mom tells me. And maybe it's a little bit of an exaggeration, but it's still true. You should never get too proud of yourself."

"And why is that really?" Mark asked, seeming slightly curious but still depressed after his loss.

"'For pride cometh before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall,'" Jenny quoted. "That's from the Bible."

Mark stiffened. "What?" Jenny asked. "You don't read the Bible?"

"Not really," Mark said with a shrug. "Not my favorite book."

"Oh," Jenny said, eyes wide in surprise. To her, everyone must read the Bible, especially nice people like Mark. It was just the way things were done. Cora, seeing that Mark was no longer sulking, stepped over to talk to him. When this happened Jenny was always very politely kicked out of the conversation, so she went to talk to Bill.

"Hey, Jen," he said with an easy grin. "How's it?"

She frowned. "Could you please call me Jenny or Jennifer? I don't really like Jen. But I'm very well, thank you."

He laughed for some reason, but Bill laughed at everything so she didn't let it bother her as she pretended he probably wasn't laughing at her. She held her copy of Jane Eyre, which she had been reading during the match, tightly against her chest and examined him solemnly. His smile seemed strained, his eyes drifting towards Mako and Cora.

"You're really upset about that loss, aren't you?" Jenny asked. He blinked and looked back at her distractedly.

"What? Oh, no, not that much really..." His eyes drifted towards Cora again, and Jenny understood.

"Oh! That's cool. Just like in a book!" she sighed dreamily, hugging her own book. Bill flushed.

"I... don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do!" Jenny laughed. Mark glanced at her, and she lowered her voice. "It's okay. I won't tell."

His smile carried a tinge of anxiety, but he smiled nonetheless.


	4. Yet Another Look

***Waves* This idea popped into my head after eating too much sugar too late at night. I own nothing, and I'm still working on a much longer look at RCH, so please don't hurt me.**

"I'm telling you, bro, she's _stalking_ me."

Bill looked up from his sandwich as Mark slammed his tray down on the table and dropped into the seat across from his brother. He was unusually pale, and his eyes kept flickering anxiously to a girl two tables down. Bill craned his head to see who he was talking about.

"Don't look!" Mark hissed, hunching his shoulders and looking horrified. "She'll know you're looking at her and come talk to us!"

Bill looked at his brother in mild amazement. Mark looked like a nervous wreck, and since when did he even notice girls existed, much less stalked him? While Bill had figured out long ago that his fans were overly obsessed with him, Mark had never seemed to notice his fangirls.

"Okay, bro, who are we talking about here?"

Mark stared at him, mouth clamped tightly shut. Bill tried a different tack.

"Is she a member of the fan club?"

Mark shook his head. Bill's eyebrows rose.

"All right then... Is it Ashleigh? She seems to like you..."

"It's not Ashleigh," Mark said hoarsely. "It's... Cora."

"Cora?" Bill asked, surprised. The foreign exchange student didn't seem like the stalker type. "What makes you think that?"

"She's in every single one of my classes!" the eighteen-year-old hissed. "All of them!"

"What's so weird about that?" Bill asked curiously. "You're both seniors. How is that stalking?"

"Bill," Mark said with exaggerated patience, "she's in all my classes. Every. Single. One. That's not normal! What are the chances that she's in every single one of my classes? She must have set something up with Barletti, there's something weird about the two of them..."

"Coincidence," Bill said dismissively, taking another bite of his sandwich. "And I doubt she set anything up with the principal." Mark growled.

"She's in my Japanese class! Who actually wants to learn Japanese?"

"Um, you?" Bill asked, raising his eyebrows. Mark shook his head impatiently.

"I already speak Japanese, bro, I knew I'd get an A. But why would she want to learn Japanese?"

"Maybe she thought it was interesting," the sixteen-year-old shrugged. "It's not like you're the only two people in the class."

"Still," Mark said, sounding disgruntled. "It's weird."

Bill shrugged. "There's a few people who are in all of my classes, and you don't see me freaking out about it."

"But she comes to all the games!" Mark said almost desperately. "All of them!"

"So do I," Bill said, amused as he took another bite of his sandwich. Mark scowled. "All right then, so does Ashleigh."

"Ashleigh's not in all of my classes."

"Bro, half the school comes to our games."

"Half the school isn't in all my classes!"

"So?" Bill asked, exasperatedly rolling his eyes. "The point is, it's not that odd that she comes to our games."

"She comes to the practices, too," Mark said stubbornly.

"So do the fanclubs."

"But Cora's not in the fanclub! Why would she come to the practices?"

"Because it's sort of like a game, I guess," Bill said with another shrug. "She likes sports. Calm down and eat your lunch."

"But she always _talks_ to me," Mark said. "After the games. In the halls. After practice."

"Yeah, that's just weird. Who in their right mind would talk to you if they could help it?"

"She stalking me," Mark said with a pitiful whine in his voice.

"It's all in your head." Bill smirked suddenly. "You know what I think? I think you _want_ Cora to stalk you."

Mark's expression was of pure horror. "Oh my God, _no!_ Ew! What makes you think that?"

"Well," Bill said philisophically, "maybe you want her to return the favor."

"Favor?" Mark asked dazedly, and Bill nodded wisely.

"Oh yeah. The whole stalking thing. I mean, think about it. You're in all her classes-"

"_She's_ in all _my_ classes!"

"And you go to all the swim meets-"

"To show, you know, good spirit! Half the school goes!"

"And you always talk to her afterwards-"

"To _congratulate_ her!"

Bill's smirk widened to a full-blown, extremely smug grin. "Yup, I'd say that's stalking."

"What's stalking?"

Cora Anderson dropped onto the bench next to Mark. The eighteen-year-old gave his brother an "I told you so" look before standing abruptly and leaving. Cora looked slightly put out, before it occurred to her that Mark had left a tray of untouched food sitting there, and she very calmly slid it over in front of her and began eating.

"So who's a stalker?" she asked curiously, picking through the salad to find non-wilted pieces of lettuce and drowning them in Ranch dressing.

"Mark," Bill replied promptly. "We were talking about soccer. You know, following the ball everywhere?"

"Oh," Cora said, apparently satisfied. "All right then. You wanna share? I can't eat a second lunch all by my lonesome."

Bill grinned and dug in.


End file.
